‘Heidi!’ Alex’s voice is loud and clear, the car is still moving, but slowly. I can still jump out.

I open the door, feel his hand on my arm trying to hold me back, but I shake him off. No. This is a step too far. He can’t go there. He can’t. No.

Alex slams the brakes on in the car and I lurch a little but not enough that I lose my balance. I am out of the car and I am half walking, half running up the remainder of the hill towards the funeral car they are all in. All eyes are on me. I can sense that, can hear things around me. Whispers.

My heart is pumping hard and I can feel a cool sweat break out on my forehead, even though it is bitterly cold. I want to scream. I want to claw at Ciara. To ask her what on earth she is thinking. To ask her why. Why would she do that? She’s not a stupid woman, she would know how much pain it would cause me.

The funeral car stops and the door opens just as I reach it. Ciara steps out, her face set thick with concern and a hint of fear.

‘What is it, Heidi? Are you okay?’

‘You can’t bury him here, in my mother’s grave!’ I shout and any eyes that weren’t already on me are suddenly focused in my direction. ‘You can’t do this. I can’t believe you’re doing this. Make them stop. Now!’

I watch as tears form and start to fall from Ciara’s eyes, how she takes a step back as if she is afraid of me. I’m aware of Stella getting out of the car and trying to direct her away.

‘But … it’s what he wanted. His final wishes. You were okay with that …’ Ciara says, crumpling. ‘It’s breaking my mother’s heart but it’s what he wanted. When we talked about it, you said we were okay to follow his final wishes. You agreed.’

I was okay with it? When did I say that? My head is swimming and I can hear the thumping of my heart so loudly I fear it will burst through my eardrums. The edges of the conversation I had with her are fuzzy. I’d been feeding Lily and was still reeling from the heated conversation with Alex.

Maybe I’m losing my grip on reality. I can feel it slipping away. I can feel the physical sensation of it falling from my hands as if it is my skin peeling from my bones. I feel it and it is the thing of nightmares, and I want it to stop. I need it to stop.

I feel a hand on my arm, strong. It’s Alex.

‘Heidi, please. Come away. Don’t make a scene. Not now. This is hard enough.’

He is whispering, but his voice is urgent. Embarrassment radiates from him as he tries to encourage me back to the car. I’m almost catatonic with a mixture of rage and fear, and I want to push him away. I want to run to my mother’s grave and do everything I can to stop them from going anywhere near it, and yet the sight of her open grave hits me with such a punch in the stomach that I fear I might throw up.